Deuxième Guerre Mondiale
by Rinzlerf4tu
Summary: World War two from the point of view of France. After France is captured by Germany he has to withstand invasion, torture, and the suffering of his people as the war rages on while England must fend of the Blitzkrieg and try and save him. May contain FrUK and GerIta.


((Okay, serious talk time people... I love you all. Seriously, whenever you leave reviews or favorite my stuff I legitimately pick up my laptop and hug it. Thank you so much for being so nice and following my stories. It's summer now and I'm having a good flow of writing juices so I can pick up with the updates now and add some more like this one here. Thank you again for all the love, you people make me smile and squee.))

May 9th, 1940

"You know, Germany is going to attack any day now." England told France as he shuffled through some papers on his desk. "That Maginot line you have won't be enough. You saw what he did to Poland."

France sighed. "Oui, but I'm sure we can fight him off. We're going to the front tomorrow to be sure of that."

"France, you know that's a bad idea. What if he captures you?" he asked, a little irritated and stood up. England didn't know if he could handle another war with Germany, the first one was damaging enough. Especially if he's left to fighting by himself again.

"Well if he tries I know you'll be there to save me~" the Frenchman chuckled softly. The war in Europe had begun and although France kept his carefree attitude about it all, on the inside he was frightened. He was frightened mainly by what happened to Germany.

He had been acting strange ever since he got that new boss, and it was the same with Italy. Now Germany had taken Austria and had actually invaded Poland. He knew he was next but he at least had the Maginot line and England's help. Along with the Ardenne Forest, Germany could never take him. Right?

* * *

Germany's tanks mowed over the Ardenne forest... England and France fought Germany, as well as Italy, though he couldn't be found anywhere near the front, and their troops tooth and nail but as their own people were dying, they could feel each blow. Each fallen soldier. About eleven days of fighting later England, who had been shooting his pistol, took cover behind a tank to reload. "I told you he could get past that bloody forest." he said as he glanced over to France who was reloading his gun as well.

"Well I thought it could hold up." he shrugged and gave England a smile. "I suppose I was wrong." This battle alone had already done a number on the country of love. He looked much weaker and like he could hardly stand up. Plus, cuts and bruises covered his skin and even his usually silky hair had gotten dull from fighting.

England gave France a worried look. "Don't push yourself too hard France. We're going to try and retreat across the channel soon." he said softly. He knew France couldn't keep this up and seeing him like this was almost painful. More painful than his own battle wounds.

"What do you mean we're going to retreat? We... We can't give up now." France said and started standing up, just to be pulled down again by England.

"We're retreating because we've already lost this battle and I don't want to risk losing you." he told him sternly. "Please, Francis... He can take your land but I won't let him take you from me..."

France sighed and smiled slightly as he saw troops start to get into boats about a mile off. "D'accord..." England was right and they were cornered at Dunkirk.

England cocked his gun and stood up, shooting some German troops. "Come on." he said and looked down at him.

He stood up as well and they started running towards the channel as they fired on any troops trying to shoot at them but soon his legs gave out. England turned around. "France, you have to get up!" he shouted, almost in a panic.

France put his hand to his head. "D-Desole... I can't... My soldiers..." he muttered. People were getting in boats and one of the British troops grabbed England's arm. "Come on sir, we have to go!"

England tried to pull away from him and held out his hand to France. "Just take my hand! France, please!" he yelled as he was tugged into a boat.

Just as it had been filled and cast off, Germany stepped up behind Francis and pulled him up by his collar. "Hallo Frankreich..." he smirked and started pulling him away. France pulled at his collar, now choking him. "Non... N-Non!... Angleterre!" he shouted as he was taken by Germany but then was silenced when he was knocked out.

England's boat sailed across the short strip of water, back to his home as he struggled against the couple troops trying to keep him in the boat as he fought off tears. "We have to go back damn it! We have to save him!" he shouted until his voice was hoarse. The boat landed in England as relieved men got out of their own boats. Some were Frenchman, and some were Brits, but almost all of them were just glad they survived. England however was not.

* * *

When France woke up the first thing he noticed was the room he was in was dark and cold. It had a feeling of hard steel and death. He then noticed he was tied with his arms behind his back and he was laying on the floor. "So France... It seems like your boss signed an agreement with mine and now, you belong to me." he heard in a dark voice. It was recognizable as Germany's but it was different. Twisted in a way.

"So now you've captured me?" France asked in a weak voice. He was still in rough shape from the battle he had gone through. "I'm flattered~"

"Hm, you should be. Out of all of the countries I have under my control you're the one I really wanted. Everyone else either already belonged to me or had to be taken to get to you." Germany told him and lifted France's chin with his boot. He was wearing a grey dress uniform with a red band around the arm and held a crop behind his back. France looked up and looked him in the eye. His usual blue eyes seemed to have a tint of red in them now.

"Almangie... What happened to you?" he asked, a little confused. Germany was usually so carefree besides when it came to things like cleaning and such. He was never like this though.

"What happened? You blamed me for something I didn't do." he said and then kicked France in the stomach. "And then you wanted me to grow poor! You wanted my people to starve! I had to make cuckoo clocks just to pay you!" he yelled and kicked him again, knocking the wind out of him.

"W-We were all starving Almangie... That wasn't my fault." France said once he could breathe properly again. "Besides, my boss came up with that treaty after the Great War, not me."

"Don't try and snake your way out of this. I know you had a say in that treaty and it was you who made me this desperate."

"So desperate you had to go and start another war? What do you even want to gain from this besides idiotic revenge?"

"Nign... I was desperate to save my people. So much so that I let my new boss..." his eyes flickered back to their normal shade for a moment but the red came back and his eyes were hard. "But it doesn't matter now. Now I have you, and it's not just revenge I want... I want to rule the world."

((Author's note thing: Yay! Chapter one of this thing is done! I've been wanting(needing desperately) to do this! It's WW2! Mostly from France's view! There will be parts where it switches to England's but mostly it's just France. And writing Germany as full on Nazi Germany is hard! Just because writing him as evil is hard for me. But he's not really evil, he's just a bit messed up right now. And by a bit messed up I mean he needs some serious help. And don't worry, it's just Hitler making him be all evil and mean and stuff. Oh, and Italy got part of France after that battle too so he'll be coming in. And don't you all worry, we all know how WW2 ends... Or, I hope you all know... If you don't why are you here? Anywho, YAY! This is going to be dark as hell by the way.))


End file.
